


Soft Lavender Kisses

by eternalempires



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Cute, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Kissing in the Rain, Love, Luka Couffaine Loves Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Lukanette, Naga Luka Couffaine, Protective Luka Couffaine, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Snake Luka Couffaine | Viperion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27887401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalempires/pseuds/eternalempires
Summary: Pure Lukanette fics! Can also be found in my 'falling in love' book but this one is for just these two babies (bc they're my OTP). Enjoy!Purple was him and her, it was them.Pink and blue, no room for yellow. No chance of going dark.No chance of hurting each other.Just them.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Lukanette - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	1. The Beauty of Purple

**Author's Note:**

> Extract:  
> She crawled so far into his heart that all his walls crashed down into a dusty cloud of pink, and that pink mixed until she was in his lungs and he was breathing her in with every breath. He doesn’t need oxygen— he just needs her.
> 
> Enjoy the fic :))

Purple was her and him, it was them.

But purple was also the color of anger, of heartbreak.

It was the color his father screamed through the house until his voice went raw and it was the color his knuckle turned after punching the wall. Purple is what his mother cloaked herself in when he left, like her whole body turned bruised with grief. Purple is the color his sister wore until she turned it from mourning into bravery and learned how to love again despite the fear. Purple danced from his fingertips and stained his cheeks as sobs clung to his bedroom walls. Purple is what he has to protect himself from— his past from leaking out and his sensitive heart from twisting into colorless knots, his anger from striking, his sister meant to be held instead of frightened. Purple was sorrow, it was aching and cruel and merciless.

Purple was not meant to be happy, wasn’t meant to  _ them _ .

So why was it?

Because Marinette is so many shades of pink that it leaves Luka breathless, but she’s always a bubble-gum glow when she sees him.

That’s when she’s herself.

That’s when she’s happy.

And it’s because of  _ him _ .

Him who’s a blue— dark enough some days to drown his soul, dark and deep and enough of an ocean blue that he could sweep the world away in a tsunami and not even care. A cyan blue when calm, when he teases his sister, when he meditates to his guitar. But he’s a soft azure when he’s with her; indigo when she cries and a blazing navy when she’s hurt. Her laughter makes him go bright blue and her smile melts him into the color of the sky at midday.

She’s pink.

He’s blue.

And purple is still not a happy color, still not something she’d choose.

She wants yellow instead.

She’d be happy with yellow. With someone other than him.

And he wants her to be happy— so there’s no room for purple.

_ Besides _ , he thinks,  _ purple just ruins things and she deserves to be safe. _

“Lovely?” Marinette pokes his cheek, making the musician blink up at her at the sound of what the tiny bluenette has chosen to call him for months now. That and ‘sweetie’. “Are you okay?”

“Your freckles are darker than usual.” Is all Luka can say, eyes drifting over her slightly pink-tinged cheeks as the little freckles stand out.

_ Pink, pink, pink. _

Her blush is pink.

When he glances down, he sees the frown on her lips— they’re pink too— and feels the uncertain skip in the beat of her song. It makes him sigh.

“Don’t worry about me, Melody.” Luka gently reaches up and tugs a loose strand of hair behind her ear, not wanting it to block her beautiful electric eyes. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?” Marinette tilts her head and it takes almost all his self restraint not to awe out loud at how adorable she is. “I’m here to talk if you’re not.”

“I’m sure.” He chuckles, ruffling her hair even though his heart aches.  _ Yellow _ . She likes yellow, not blue. “Want to hear a song I’ve been working on?”

“Of course.” His melody smiles softly— the same smile that makes his heart beg to never let it end— and motions for him to continue. “What’s it about?”

Luka smirks, “You’ll see.”

Marinette gives him a look that’s somewhere between ‘Why don’t you just tell me?’ and ‘What are you waiting for?’ and it makes his smirk broaden into a grin, lips tugging up at the sides as her nose crinkles.

_ Cute _ .

They’re sitting across from each other on Marinette’s balcony and the sunrise is orange and red and  _ pink—  _ and it makes Luka feel something he’s too scared to feel alone but doesn’t ask or pry. He sits there patiently and he plays his guitar for the girl he fell in love with.

If she was happy, being friends would be easier.

If she was happy, he wouldn’t mind yellow.

If she was happy… would it be worth it?

Now they’re laughing and talking and teasing and it makes his heart melt in his chest because she isn’t happy with him how he wants to be happy with her, but she’s still happy.

And it’s  _ enough _ .

It’s more than enough and it’s worth it a thousand times over.

Her eyes twinkle in Paris’ lights and the sun makes her hair glimmer as it flows around her shoulders and—  _ god  _ she’s so beautiful and she doesn’t even realize how much she affects him and  _ god _ , she’s smiling and her freckles are drowning under her blush and he’s drowning under his own love and he can’t handle it but  _ god _ , he would do anything for her.

And it isn’t fair and it never will be fair because he’s blue and she’s pink but she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t want anything but to become the soft color of a peach with yellow.

Peach would look good on her— a gentle color with no chance of going dark. Yellow is too bright, too easy to love for that. Too nice of a color to make peach anything less than what she would hope.

And purple is still a dangerous color.

Purple is still dark, it’s still unstable. He knows why she doesn’t want purple but he wants it. He wants the mulberry shape of bruise-kissed lips and magenta blushes and mauve-colored winks and he wants to love her so much that it’s  _ painful _ .

Purple is still  _ them _ .

But it’s him now, too.

She crawled so far into his heart that all his walls crashed down into a dusty cloud of pink, and that pink mixed until she was in his lungs and he was breathing her in with every breath. He doesn’t need oxygen— he just needs her.

He loves her.

He’ll always love her.

But now it’s midday and the sky is the color of his eyes whenever he looks at her and there’s nothing dark or hard about it. It’s a soft color and a soft feeling and it expands even when the sun— even when the thoughts of yellow— try to break through.

It’s midday and they’re still laughing.

They laugh until their sides hurt and Luka doesn’t even remember why but when he looks at the way Marinette’s head tilts back with a loud giggle he finds that he doesn’t care.

Midday doesn’t last forever, though, and neither does the feeling of being drunk on happiness. Purple comes crashing in with sharp edges and a wicked laugh and draped in gold garments and purple is the color of the mask they’re wearing and purple is the color of fear that seizes Luka’s heart when it tries to hurt her.

When it threatens to make them relive their most painful memories or when their lives changed forever.

When he thinks about his father; the purple yells bouncing around their home, the bruises, the injuries he had to hide, the hits meant for his sister but left orchid-colored marks against him instead.

When he knows that she’s been hurt a lot too.

When he knows that both of them have things they never want to experience again.

Akumas were common and they were always thrumming with energy and he knew that they weren’t in control of themselves— that Hawkmoth had his manipulative claws digging into their minds— but it doesn’t help the rage that contorts and twists in his veins because  _ how dare they try to hurt the girl he loves. _

So he fights for her and she fights for him but they’re just two teenagers and they weren’t supposed to be a team and what were they  _ supposed  _ to do when the world feels like it's falling down onto them?

Luka felt like he was drowning but that wasn’t what scared him.

What scared him was looking to his right and seeing that Marinette was drowning too. That his eyes were growing heavy and he couldn’t breathe and he felt so weak but he reached out for her anyway— he reached out and everything went numb when their fingertips touched.

It felt like he was flying, flashes and colors and smells jerking him from one place to the next and it could’ve been years since his feet had touched the ground by the time that Luka crashed into the cold, plasticy feeling of whatever was under him.

Coughing, he sat up in a blind frenzy, blinking repeatedly as his senses tried to grapple his surroundings— skin feeling too tight to fit his panic.

“Melody?” Luka pushed himself to stand, knees shaking but not as bad as his voice. “Melody, where are you? Marinette!” Seeing her groaning behind him, the musician only sees a wave of pink before he’s already crouched next to her and holding her face in his hands.

She’s cold and her face is scrunched up like she tasted a lemon.

But she’s breathing, she’s alive— and it makes relief puncture his lungs and for a heavy sigh to escape him.

“L-Luka?” Marinette’s eyes slowly blinked open, mouth parting in some form of a daze— as if she’s looking right through him. “What… the akuma! No, oh no. This is, this is bad! I can’t be trapped here, I have to get back! And, god, Luka. I need to get back to Luka.”

“Melody, it’s okay, I’m right here.” Luka shuffled closer, both of them sitting side to side now as his hands calmingly ran up and down her arms, confused as to why she wasn’t looking at him. “We’ll be okay. Ladybug and Chat Noir will fix everything and—”

“No, no.” She clutched at her head with a groan, not acknowledging his words, blue eyes filling with terror and guilt. “If I’m here then, then— Tikki?” Watching her suddenly whirl around and stand up gave Luka whiplash and he wondered how she didn’t even stagger after being teleported to… wherever they were. “Tikki, I really need you!”

_ Tikki? Who’s that? _ Luka blinked a couple times, hands itching by his sides to just drag her back to him and never let go.

He’s blue and she’s pink but purple would be okay if she’s safe. Purple would be okay, for just a moment, if he could hold her. If he could make sure nothing else— no one else— could hurt her. 

“Okay, okay, this is fine,” Marinette said to herself and Luka watched, unsure of what to do if she couldn’t see, hear, or feel him— seemingly in anyway since she gave so indication that she knew he was there. “Chat Noir will fight that Akuma or find a way to break me out of here and everything will be fine. He knows who I am. He’ll figure it out.”

_ Chat Noir? Why would Chat Noir focus on getting her out then just winning the fight and cleansing the Akuma with Ladybug? _

Luka was a Couffaine, chaos ran in his blood and he was used to life throwing a curveball and painful things his way, used to going with the flow and preparing for the worst, used to figuring things out on his own.

But honestly? This was giving him a headache.

“Melody?” He stands up and tries again, only for a wave of purple to explode around them as the scenery flashes around them, their bodies now side by side as they’re forced to move through wherever this Akuma’s power is taking them.

They’re off to the side, his Melody not too far away and she clutches at her hands to her chest breathing heavy as she stares at what looks like a playground around them, and he can smell the wood chips underneath them and the wet soil, puddles here and there as drops of water drip from the trees.

He blinks again and recognizes it. 

The playground from the first school he went to, when he was five or six and still so scared of everything and anyone that he avoided people at all costs— blending in with the background and making no friends.

But this wasn’t from his memory.

It was from hers.

“Mari,” Luka looks down and wishes he could hold her, but she still can’t see him or feel him. They’re trapped together but they’re still so far apart. He sighs, looking around more and frowning. “Why would one of your worst memories be on a playground?”

As expected, she didn’t answer.

Then Luka sees her— a short little five-year-old with a shy smile and a pink overalls that are too big for her and a white shirt underneath, dark hair into pigtails and blue eyes nervously taking in all the other kids playing.

That’s Marinette.

Compared to him at that age, she definitely looked more put together. Still kind, still adorable in that innocent kid way where they don’t know how cruel the world is. In a way that he never got to experience— childhood ripped away by his father’s hands much too soon.

Kids he recognized as her now classmates and his sister’s girlfriend, but not his sister— she went to school a year later than everyone else— were playing what looked to be kickball.

The Akuma also said life-changing memories, so many things wouldn’t be bad? Maybe this is just when she made friends for the first time?

Luka hoped that’s all it was.

But then, as the rest of her memory played out, he realized that was a too-soon assumption.

She’s five when she learns what it’s like to be bullied for the first time and goes home with a running nose and bruises from when Chloe— god, he hated that girl— pushed her into the concrete. She’s called Ugly Mari for the rest of the year and it breaks his heart as he realizes that this is what started her insecurity.

She’s seven when she’s told she’ll never be loved and Luka watches as she cries in her father’s arms as she asks what’s so wrong with her that no one wants to be friends. Mr. Dupain tells her that some people just don’t have the same gentleness and warmth inside of them that she has.

She’s nine when she makes friends with her classmates and everyone learns to love the kind-hearted girl but ten when her best friend at the time says she’s too much to handle. This is the year she learned to fold any pride she had into herself and hide it away next to her confidence.

Luka wants to scream at the world when he sees how scared she is of pushing people away because she’s a little too smart, a little too clumsy, a little too late, a little too much.

She’s twelve when Chloe beats her up in the locker room and she goes home telling her parents that she fell down some stairs. She’s twelve when she makes her first successful shirt and it gets ripped up. She’s twelve and she cries herself to sleep because she doesn’t feel like anyone will ever love her.

She’s seventeen now and she’s watching herself at twelve years old and Luka sees the tears in her eyes and he’s on the floor crying just watching her feel worthless and he can’t even hold her and tell her how she’s the most amazing person he met.

She’s thirteen when she becomes Ladybug— he learns that Tikki is her Kwami— and Luka’s breath gets taken away at how brave she is but then is given back as his heart breaks all over again when he sees that she’s so riddled with insecurities that she doesn’t think she will be good enough to protect Paris.

He watches her make a mistake and she is so terrified that she gives away the earrings to Alya. He watches as she takes them back and helps her best friend. He watches as a cop berates her for getting them into this mess. He watches as she saves the same girl who made her feel unlovable for the last thirteen years of her life. He watches as she’s confident for one of the first times and smirks as she takes down Stoneheart and all the butterflies.

He watches and he’s back to being the love-sick man he is as he sees his Melody, the one trapped here with him, watch herself without blinking.

Then she smiles and he feels so grateful that his heart aches because she’s letting herself be proud and she might not be healed from the trauma of being bullied so harshly for years but she’s  _ strong  _ and she’s getting through it.

It’s the next day she falls in love for the first time underneath a black umbrella and Luka sees the shy smile on her face and he scowls because pink and yellow don’t mix— even if it would make her happy. Pink and yellow is peach but she’s nervous and so scared of messing up and yellow can’t see it and he doesn’t even deserve her.

There’s a couple battles and other heroes and small conversations here and there but their brief flashes and distant sounds but Marinette smiles anyways and waves when she sees the people she loves.

Luka sees it all and he doesn’t know how he could ever stop loving this girl who’s compassionate and sweet and protects everyone without complaining and no one can even properly appreciate her for it because no one knows.

But he knows.

And he loves her all the more.

She’s fourteen when she meets him and he watches himself play for her and he smiles as his Melody looks at the scene with a familiar tenderness in her eyes that leaves him breathless. He watches over the course of the year as they grow closer through her eyes, as he gets akumatized and as he is granted with the Snake Miraculous for the first time.

Luka sees as, even though he wasn’t her first love, she fell in love with him.

She’s sixteen when she dies for the first time in a battle with an Akuma and Chat Noir is forced to take her earrings. She’s sixteen when she comes back from death with a smile and learns that her partner is Adrien Agreste. She’s sixteen when she found out her old crush is madly in love with her and she still chooses him— she chooses Luka— anyway.

She’s seventeen and she’s talking to Alya on the phone about how to tell him she wants him and it was this morning she did that, right before he came over, and then they’re sitting with bright smiles and he notices how she looks at him when he’s looking at something else— only briefly, as even the devil knows he’d be damned if he could just keep his eyes off of her for more than a couple minutes— and Luka is blown away with the knowledge.

She loves him.

Marinette loves him.

The feeling is so purple that it makes him ache with the need to kiss her. It’s the smell of her lavender shampoo and the color of an Iris and it’s warmth and gentle and a burning amethyst and it makes him cry all over again.

He’s blue and she’s pink and yellow isn’t even an option anymore but that doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want yellow. She doesn’t want to be peach. She just wants him— she wants him and he wants her even more.

Purple was still dangerous.

But it was so, so  _ beautiful _ .

He’d never give it up because of what purple was.

Purple was her and him, it was them.


	2. A Surprise Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extract:  
> The emotions spilled out between them; the love they kept tucked into their sleeves, the joy, the passion and overwhelming amount of just… feeling safe and comfortable with each other.
> 
> Hope you enjoy the fic!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any suggestions or anything you want to see in another lukanette fic, don't be shy to ask for it! I love to hear your guys' comments :))

“Did you know,” Marinette said, twisting an ebony and silver ring around on her finger. It was one of Luka’s and she rarely, if ever, took it off. When he went off to college and moved to Lyon, a mere two hour train ride from Paris, he gave her a couple pieces of his jewelry, his favorite hoodie, a Jagged Stone t-shirt, and a promise of returning. “That I miss you?”

“Yeah, Melody, I know.” The Musician’s voice was clearly wistful despite. “I miss you too, more than you can imagine.”

“I think I can imagine it well enough,” She whispered back.

They were on a call, speakerphone allowing them to lay back on their separate balconies and star-gaze. The black spaces between the stars seems farther apart than usual, the moon more alone than before.

The distance felt longer than it was.

The days went by so slow, each hour lacking something and each night dragging on and missing a vital piece needed for good sleep. That wasn’t a piece, however, but a person— Luka. She wanted him closer, close enough to hold and laugh with and see that dopey smile he always had around her and blush at his sly comments and cheek-nuzzles after he kisses her forehead.

She misses the boy that, for the last couple of years, had become her best friend.

Alya was… supportive and an amazing friend but she just didn’t  _ understand _ .

Luka did, though.

Whenever she needed someone to listen without judgement or without trying to solve her problems for her— to just listen, he was there. And when the musician needed someone to talk to him, to distract him from his thoughts and whatever was making his mind a too-heavy place to be, she was there for him.

He was her shoulder to cry on and who made her laugh and she was the same, holding him when his heart ached in his chest with memories it couldn’t forget.

They were each other’s rocks in an otherwise chaotic, always shifting tsunami of a life.

Marinette fully supported Luka following his dreams and going to college and getting a degree that will push him along and better his musical career— she just wished it didn’t hurt so much to be away from him.

She had half a school year left before her time in Lycee would be up and she’d be, coincidentally, going to the same university as him. It didn’t seem to come quick enough, though.

They were both busy. Luka had gigs with his new band called the _ Silver-hearts of Serpents, _ practice, and extracurricular activities and she had to work on her designs for anyone who commissioned MDC— the name on her website— and they both had schoolwork and classes to attend to so that meant little to no time to catch up with each other during the day.

Thankful for being in the time zone, they tried to make it work and usually called before going to bed and when they woke up and texted in between classes or things that kept them on a constantly shifting schedule.

But it wasn’t the same as just being able to go across town and curl up into their favorite person’s arms and just sleep the weight of the day’s events away. It wasn’t the same as laughing when stranded in a heavy downpour because neither of them checked if it was going to rain. It wasn’t the same as chasing Andre’s Sweetheart Icecream around for half the day just to drop it from tripping over themselves seconds later even though neither of them believed in the magic behind it.

It just wasn’t the same.

_ It wasn’t fair either _ , Marinette decided,  _ that the boy I fell in love with and who genuinely likes me back has to be so far away. _

But she didn’t tell him that— not when she knew it would make Luka feel even guiltier for leaving. They were each other’s greatest support system and they always would be, and he didn’t like being gone when she was handling so much.

That so much being Alya unable to understand that Marinette simply didn’t like Adrien anymore— her falling for Luka and falling for him hard; falling for him in a way that felt deeper and closer than anything she ever did for her former crush— and still creating schemes to get them together, to the point where it was getting dangerous and rather ridiculous.

She had homework, exams coming up, commissions, hours needed to help her parent’s in the bakery, other hours dedicated to helping friends, and being Ladybug and the burden that came with the earrings (not that, to her knowledge, Luka knew about).

To top that off, she dealt with a lot more frustrating people at Lycee than she did at Dupont, including belligerent teenage boys who don’t understand the word no or respect boundaries.

So she really missed him.

So much so that it left her heart aching.

_ Only a couple months _ , she reminded herself. It would only be a couple more months till the summer. Till they would be at the same University (and sharing the same apartment— it’s less expensive and they always used to joke that they’d make great roommates with how often they spent over at the other’s place).

“Melody,” Luka said, voice deeper than before but just as smooth. “Did you fall asleep on me?”

“No,” Marinette yawned, covering her mouth with a small squeak as she curled up and turned towards her phone, squinting at the bright screen that showed his contact picture— dopey smile and all. “I just got lost in thought, sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby.” He reassured and she felt her mouth tug up into a warm smile. She loved when he called her that or his other pet names for her, it made her feel special. “But you sound tired and I know you have a test tomorrow morning, you should go to bed.”

“But Luka,” She whined. “I want to talk with you more. I really missed you today and, and I have more things that I want to tell you.”

“Come on, my Melody,” He coaxed and she pouted. He knew she’d do what he wanted when he used that  _ stupid,  _ attractive, comforting voice. It simply wasn’t fair. “Both of us are free tomorrow afternoon, remember? You’re only going to watch Kitty Section practice then going home and I only have my own practice to attend to. I’m sure we’ll be able to talk after.” Then his voice got softer. “I’ll always be here for you and I’ll always listen to what you have to say, but I don’t want to keep you up when that risks your grades and, more importantly, your health.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” Marinette grumbles, groggily getting up and moving over to her hatch where she easily slipped into her bed and snuggled under the covers. “Can you at least talk to me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course, beautiful.” Luka agreed, making a sleepy blush to climb her cheeks. “Anything in particular?”

“Just about things that make you happy.”

“Well, I know this one girl and she’s the most incredible person I ever met. She had amazing blue eyes and is a very talented fashion designer. Her smiles, man, her smiles make me melt and—”

“Luka,” Marinette giggles. “Not about me.”

“But you make me the happiest,” He protests.

“Sap,” She smiles, eyes closing as she laughs quietly one more time, head sinking into her pillow. “Can you… can you sing me something?”

“Mhm,” Luka hums and it’s not long before she’s falling asleep to the sound of her song, of the one he made for her.

That night she dreamt of two tattooed arms holding her and teal dyed, messy hair falling in front of aqua-blue eyes and woke up alone with tears staining her pillow— Tikki offered her a warm smile and a pat on the cheek but it didn’t seem to help the cold, lonely feeling in her chest.

*** * ***

The day had not been kind to Marinette.

She woke up with a headache, didn’t have enough time for a proper meal but remembered to grab a granola bar after Luka texted her and reminded her to eat, got a pretty bad bruise on her wrist from getting it slammed in a closing door, tripped multiple times, and managed to ruin her lecture’s notes with her coffee.

On the brightside she kept Luka’s hoodie clean— as today she decided to wear it over a simple white t-shirt and paired it with a black skater skirt, lace stockings, and combat books— and managed to not face-plant into anything by the time school ended and she was allowed to pack her things and start the walk to the boathouse to watch Kitty Section preform.

Since Luka was in college and lived too far away they had to find a new guitarist, just like Luka had to find new members to form a band.

Luckily Juleka mentioned Marc, Nathaniel’s boyfriend and the writer to his artist, played the guitar and was really good at it so within no time they were back to practicing and finding a new dynamic for the group.

Luka got lucky with some of his old friends and formed his new band which was just as good, if not better, than his old one but that was only due to a lot of extra practice and more opportunities to grow.

Axel was the band’s bassist, Bash was the drummer, Tyra was the back-up vocalist and keyboardist, and Luka was the guitarist, lead vocalist, and leader.

Marinette couldn’t wait until she could see them perform live. Luka had sent her videos and recordings of their music and songs or just of him singing or playing guitar but she knew first hand that nothing compared to seeing it in person.

And she knew that, either way, his band would be amazing.

“Marinette!” A soft voice called from behind her, making the young bluenette startle and turn slightly on the sidewalk to see who was calling her. It was Rose, a sweet smile on her lips and she tugs her girlfriend along.

As soon as her and Juleka catch up, Marinette tilts her head to the dark-haired girl’s silent greeting and drifts to the side so the couple wouldn’t have to awkwardly get out of the way.

“You’re watching us practice, right?” Rose asks. There’s an energetic bounce in her step that Marinette can’t help but to be suspicious of, and the slight smirk on Juleka’s lips don’t help.

“Yeah,” Marinette says, adjusting her purse to be in front of her as a group of obvious tourists cater to the side and almost crash into her, not wanting Tikki to get tossed around. “Do you know what you guys are playing yet? I heard Ivan mention something about revamping one of your original songs.”

“Oo!” The blonde giggles, wide eyes excited as she starts to rant about the different things her and Ivan were brainstorming earlier to improve their old work.

Her girlfriend nodded and added a couple quiet things here and there while Marinette listened, pilotely following along with the conversation and her mind strayed to Luka and thinking about what he was up to.

No doubt working on his own songs, hanging out with his band mates as they practice.

“Mylene is coming too,” Rose tells her and Marinette blinks back into reality, narrowly dodging a man skating with a yelped out apology. “So even if you won’t be alone, you’ll have company!”

“Uh,” She pauses, racking her brain to know if she missed something in the conversation. “Who’s going to watch the practice other than Mylene? Is Nate coming to support Marc?”

“Nate?” Her friend paused her skipping to let out an excited squeal. “Oh, you don’t know! Well—”

Juleka suddenly spun her girlfriend into her arms and pulled her into a kiss, causing Marinette to step away awkwardly but not retreat. Paris was a welcoming city and full of diverse and accepting people but there would always be that one jerk who had a problem with people loving other people and finding a problem if they happened to be the same gender— so she would keep a look out just in case someone wanted to cause a problem.

When the pair of girlfriends broke away a couple seconds later, Rose seemed too flustered to continue or even remember what she was saying and the bluenette laughed at how smug the blonde’s girlfriend looked.

A couple minutes went by filled with light banter between the couple and an amused Marinette refusing to join a side before the three of them got to the docs and made their way onto the boathouse.

“The rest of the band will be here soon and I want to be here when they do to ask Marc something,” Juleka says, a smirk just visible under the half of her face hidden by hair. “Can you do me a favor and grab me an extra sweater from Luka’s side of the room, Marinette? I started to keep some of my things in there when he left.”

“Uh, sure?” The bluenette nods, frowning slightly. “But didn’t he say not to—”

“Oh!” Rose suddenly bursts, whipping around to face her girlfriend. “That’s clever! You—”

And then they start kissing again and that’s Marinette’s cue to go.

She passes Anarka on the haul and gives her a friendly wave that the older woman returns with a wide smirk that she now knows her daughter inherited and quickly went below deck and crossed over to where Luka’s room was.

She grips her elbows with both hands, rocking on the balls of her feet with every step as she paces down the hallway, trying to hype herself up enough to actually go into his room.

It would be so…  _ strange _ .

She was never in there without him being there before and it would be full of his things but the most important ones gone— the wall of guitar picks packed up and now put up in his apartment’s living room from what she saw from the video he sent, the little trinkets gone from the desk now bare, and his bed only having a bare mattress and the walls without postures or any pictures.

She doesn’t know how it would feel but she knows that it won’t be good, she knows it will make the empty ache in her heart stretch all the wider.

But now she’s in front of Luka’s door and she doesn’t have a choice.

Marinette took a deep breath and turned the hatch on the door, the metal giving a slight creak to it as she awkwardly used her bodyweight to open it, grumbling to herself as it hung heavily halfway open— not noticing the group of three that were holding their breath at her entry from the middle of the room— and one of the sleeves that were way too big for her got caught in one of the crooks on the edge.

“Aw,” Her brows furrowed and she pouted as she tried to tug the sleeve free, but of course the world was against her and she somehow made it worse. “Mr. Sleeve, I’ve had a really bad day, can you please just— ahah! Thank you!”

Freeing herself from the door, Marinette pulled the sleeves over her hands for better control of the jacket and twisted around to begin the search for Juleka’s sweater when she met a pair of vivid brown eyes— eyes she definitely wasn’t prepared for.

“Eek!” Squeaking and startled, the young heroine takes a stumbling step back and ends up falling onto her butt, skirt thankfully in place and with her wide, blue eyes traitorously filling with water.

“Oh my God, she fell!”

“Shit, Bash, you scared her!”

“Aw, that’s a cute skirt. Do you think she’d tell me where she got it?”

Came the voices of the three strangers that were now all focused on her, eyes pinned onto the girl that fell as she stared right back, a slow race of tears from the day’s stress finally snapping trailing down her cheeks.

“W-Who are you guys?” Marinette stammered out, mind reeling and anxiety having already taken hold of her even before she noticed the trio, just noticing the sting in her palms and the burning heat of the ripped open skin. “You, you shouldn’t be in here, this is a p-private room!”

“I’m Bash Vulcan,” The guy with vivid brown eyes— and the one who scared her— had slicked back blonde hair, a thick black sweatshirt, ripped skinny jeans with converse, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he offered her a hand up.

She refused and just remained on the floor, not trusting her legs to keep her up if she stood at the moment. Feeling extraordinarily pathetic, Marinette just couldn’t focus on anything besides her pounding heart. She defeated Akumas on a weekly basis but couldn’t handle a couple strangers?

It made her feel so weak.

And those  _ stupid  _ tears were still falling.

“Sorry this asshole scared you, he didn’t mean to. I’m Axel, by the way. Axel Jupiter?” The one who swore and reprimanded Bash gave her a sympathetic smile that she barely registered and waved at her, his light brown hair flopping in front of his face from where it reached his shoulders. He had a punk style to him— and he said his name like it was supposed to mean something.

Maybe it was.

Maybe on a good day or with a slightly calmer heart Marinettte would’ve placed who they are but she just came up blank. Blank and panicking.

The only girl in the Trio had a pixie cut that was a pastel green and a nose ring and anyone with eyes could tell that her style was gothic anad that she simply didn’t give a shit by the tilted smirk of her lips— that only deepened as she pointed to Marinette’s skirt and asked, “Where’d ya get it, girly? I’m Tyra Bellona, I guess since these idiots gave their last name too.”

Tyra. Axel. Bash.

They’re in Luka’s boathouse. They’re in Luka’s room. They’re in Luka’s band.

The Band.

_ Luka _ .

“L-Luka?” Marinette sniffled, wiping away her tears as she sat up and winced at the way her palms stung, the broken skin and forming scabs still tender. “Why are you guys here without Luka?” She asked, using the hatch’s edge to pull herself into a standing position.

It was Bash’s turn to look suspicious and he stepped closer and pointed his finger at her, eyebrows raised, “Everyone was supposed to know why and where. So who are you, huh? Whatcha doin’ here? Are you some crazy fangirl that snuck on board?”

“What?” The young heroine swiped at her tears again, voice slightly croaky as she took a shaky step back. “N-no! I’m not a fangirl! I was getting a sweatshirt for Juleka and—”

“I smell lies! What’s your name? Don’t lie. I can smell them. I can.”

“Man,” Axel throws something at the back of Bash’s head, making his bandmate back up. “Leave the girl alone, you prick. Look at her jacket? Look familiar?”

Tyra and Bash looked her up and down, the gothic chick laughing after a second before she shoves the latter in the shoulder with a cocky look playing on her features, “Just wait until Couffaine finds out you made his girl cry, Vulcan. I can’t wait to see him flip his shit.”

“Wait,” Marinette drew the attention back to herself. “Luka is here?”

“Aw, he didn’t tell her,” Bash snickered making Axel hit his gut before gesturing to the other door that leads back to the deck but on Juleka’s side, and explaining how Luka snuck up there thinking that ‘his melody’ wasn’t there yet and wanting to make sure that his demon of a sister didn’t get too smug and spill the beans.

Marinette tiredly, but with excitement running through her veins, dashed back through the hatch door— being quickly followed by the bandmates, because who would want to miss the drama?— and ran all the way up to the deck.

Anarka laughed whole-heartedly as she passed and yelled out, “Go get ‘em, lass!” that had her blushing up to her ears but she was simply too happy to care.

Luka was here! In hugging distance!

And the  _ jerk  _ didn’t even tell her!

She saw Luka sitting on the couch, his guitar next to him and his leg bouncing with nervous energy. He ran his hand through his hair and tugged, an anxious look on his face as he talks to Rose about something, eyes closed as he grumbled.

Which was perfect because he didn’t even see Marinette and didn’t get the choice until she was throwing herself on top of him, legs on either side of his and knees tucked into his hips as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his neck.

“Oomph!” Luka let out a loud breath, eyes flying open at the abrupt weight settled onto his person but then softening as he saw the girl in his lap, his arms coming around her and holding her to him just as tight— his nose nudging the top of her head as he took in her scent of chocolate cookies and vanilla. “Melody?”

Rose was squealing somewhere in the background while Juleka and Bash snickered, Axel cooing at them while Tyra complained about the disgusting gooey-ness but all of that lended into the background.

All that mattered was the two of them— the fact that they were here, in the same space, breathing each other in, holding onto the other as tightly as they could.

All that mattered was them.

Not Juleka’s scheming falling into place, not Rose’s excited chatter or how smug his mom had been or how horrible the day had been leading up to this point. Just her and just him.

“No,” Marinette mumbled, flexing her arms around him as she fully relaxed into him. “You don’t get to talk. You might forget to tell me something very,  _ very  _ important. Like, I don’t know, coming back to Paris?”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Luka nuzzled his hand against her hip, rubbing his thumb in circles as he mumbled into her hair. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“I missed you,” She replied, forgiveness in her tone. “But let me be prepared next time.”

“I will,” He kissed her forehead, putting the tiniest amount of space between them. “And you know I missed you too, right?”

She shook her head.

“Liar,” Luka tapped his fingers on her sides and dug them in a bit, tickling her and making Marinette giggle loudly as she still refused to move away from him. “You just gonna stay there, baby?”

“Mhm,” The young heroine hummed, placing a light kiss onto the edge of his jaw.

“Did you meet everyone already?” He asked. “Assuming that’s how you found out I was here— seeing them, I mean?”

“She met us,” Tyra cut in, a cackle in her voice that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Vulcan made her cry and scared her, she fell down and hurt her hands I think.”

“He also then got all up in your girl’s face and accused her of being a crazy fangirl.” Axel oh-so-helpfully replied.

“Traitors!”

“ _ Bash _ .”

“Oh, fuck.” The aforementioned boy squeaks out at Luka’s growl. “Dude, I am  _ so  _ sorry, I didn’t know she was—”

“We’ll talk later about it,” Luka brushed him off— which, coming from a Couffaine, is never good as they are people who like to be blunt and solve issues as soon as possible. To delay it means that, well, you screwed up majorly. “Melody, let me see your hands.”

“No.” Marinette grumbles, earning laughs from Tyra and his sister, who the guitarist quickly flips off. “I’m comfortable and it’s just scraped and I missed you.”

“Good luck getting her off in the next hour,” Juleka said, her hair pushed out of her face so when the young heroine peeked out from his neck she could see a sly smile spreading across her features. “Marinette’s been whining about not seeing you for weeks and she’s as stubborn as they come.”

Marinette flips her off, too.

“Aw!” Rose giggles, bouncing on her toes. “You’re becoming a real Boat Kid, Mari! They’re all adorably crass like that!”

“Says you, Rose,” She shot back. “I’ve known you for years and you’ve always sworn like a sailor so it was no surprise to me that you started dating one.” This got laughs from Axel and Luka, the latter’s chuckles she could feel in her own chest.

“Hey,” Juleka said, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend. “Leave my Manic Unicorn alone, it’s cute that her favorite word is fuck.”

“I watched your Manic Unicorn swear out a teacher when we were seven.”

“I genuinely would’ve paid to see that.”

“Oh!” Rose squealed, a soft expression on her face. “I remember that, she was so rude! Mrs. Palanchi never did anything about the girls who bullied Mari. It made me cry.”

“Aw, it’s okay. Marinette can’t get bothered by them now,” Juleka patted her head and blew a raspberry onto her cheek that had her girlfriend’s sullen expression go all giddy again.

After knowing Rose for so many years, she knew the blondie was a walking mood-whiplash, so she wasn’t really surprised.

“Wait, wait,” Azel held up a hand, drawing attention as his eyebrows pinched together. “Your girl’s name is Marinette? I thought it was Melody!”

“Nope,” The young heroine says. “It’s Marinette, you can call me Mari though. Rockstar here just calls me Melody.”

“Well then it’s nice to meet you, Marinette.” Axel did a playful bow, reminding her of a different boy in black. “This prick was always shy about the details even when he could go on and on for literal hours about you. Where’d you meet?”

“Erm…”

_ What was an appropriate way to say ‘his room because I was having a breakdown over a different guy that I was in love with and we sort of just clicked from there after he teased me about my stutter’? _

“Jules had her over to watch the band practice,” Luka, thankfully, cut in— probably having felt her body tense slightly. “We became friends after that and just got closer since then.”

Not as close as she wanted, as she’d rather be a girlfriend than best friend but this was  _ Luka  _ and she’d take as much as him as she could and love it until she didn’t know how to anymore.

“When did you guys start dating?” Tyra asks, popping the gum that she just put into her mouth. “Couple years, right?”

Luka’s silent for a painfully long second before informing, “We’re not dating.”

Someone Marinette doesn’t see who but would take a wild guess that it’s Bash as he starts choking on the water he had been trying to swallow and the other two bandmates start protesting their confusion.

Sometimes she questioned if Luka still liked her— but Marinette had her fair share in experiencing unrequited feelings and she knows that this is not what that looks like— and it’s times like these that she hopes against hope that he likes her as much as she likes him because she fell and she fell hard and she can’t be the only one who fell.

Not again, not this time.

Not with  _ him _ .

The next hour passes by in a breeze. Mylene and Ivan show up with Marc and soon Kitty Section is practicing, the other band handing out advice and compliments where they’re earned and Anarka drifting off to an unknown place to let the teenagers ‘cause mayhem as they please’.

Ivan and Mylene left early for a double date they had been planning with Alya and Nino and somehow they managed to convince Marc to drag Nate along so it was a group date.

Eventually everyone settled down into a circle around eight at night, having eaten and caught up or got to know each other better.

Marinette learned that Tyra was a little snarky but overall entertaining in the way she so passionately hated everything but loved to mess with Bash— Bash himself was a bit of an idiot but a goofball and it made him loveable enough to forgive the scabs on her palms (Luka didn’t agree with this). Axel was Luka’s best friend and he was a generally sane person but he was fiercely competitive and loved to cause arguments.

It was the most fun the young heroine had in a while and the boy she loved was by her side, so what could go wrong?

“Let’s play Truth or Dare,” Rose giggled, turning to Juleka with wide, puppy-dog eyes. “Oh, please! Can we?”

And like the lovesick fool Jules was she gave in.

Marinette knew something was either going to go wrong or horribly embarrassing from her by the wicked gleam in the purple haired girl’s eyes and, not even five minutes later (and after Bash was dared to drink hotdog juice), Luka got a dare.

Do  _ Seven Minutes in Heaven _ with ‘his Melody’.

Stupid Juleka.

But also thank you Juleka.

Which— after making sure it was okay with her— he agreed to so it was safe to say all her nerves were on fire. And it absolutely didn’t help that Tyra snarkingly called out, “If you start bumping uglies, put on a sock on the door.” after them.

“One of these days,” Luka sighed out as he closed his bedroom door behind them. “I’m really going to kill my sister.”

“I’ll help,” Marinette giggled at her, though her face was still a burning red at what Tyra had insinuated— which they, of course,  _ wouldn’t  _ be doing.

“So,” He said and her smile widened at his semi-awkward tone, her hands bracing herself against the hatch as she watched the musician sit on his bed, twisting the bracelet on his wrist. “What now?”

She wouldn’t say it was  _ entertaining  _ watching Luka be so nervous but it definitely wasn’t something she saw very often so it definitely was amusing in some sense of the word. Usually she was the awkward one who didn’t know what to do with herself, not him.

“What?” She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know how to play?”

Luka gave her a flat look, “I’m in University now. Of course I know how to play seven minutes in heaven.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Baby…” He sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, because I do want to kiss you, I just— I don’t think… fuck, this is why I have my guitar.” He grumbled. “Words are  _ not  _ my thing.”

“That’s okay,” Marinette smiles at him, tugging his jacket’s sleeves down further her arms. “I mean, you’ve seen my stammering. We’ll just not be good with words together.”

“Together?” Luka questions, a slight quirk to his lips as his head tilted, teal hair obscuring his eyes.

“Mhm,” She nods. “ _ Together _ . You and me.”

“I like the sound of that,” He smirks back at her, reaching slightly to tug her forward, the young heroine now standing between his legs. “You asked if I knew how to play— it’s my turn for the question. Want me to teach you how?”

“And you say you’re not good with words,” She sasses, a giggle falling from her mouth as Luka rolls his eyes and takes her chin into his hand, dragging her face down so they are eye-level, both of their eyes closing, and kisses her.

It’s not a heated kiss, not one that had Marinette’s heart racing but… it was one that made something slot into place in her mind, like something was missing before but finally found its way home.

As his mouth moved against hers, she leaned into his touch, hands fluttering through his hair and tugging as the strands, his own moving to cup the back of her neck and to the side of her jaw, angling her head for better access.

The emotions spilled out between them; the love they kept tucked into their sleeves, the joy, the passion and overwhelming amount of just… feeling safe and comfortable with each other.

It was by no means a kiss without soul.

Luka would go back to his university and she’d be stuck here for another month, their lives were so different and they were busy. Marinette had the responsibilities with the Miraculous and he had his band and they both had classes and a future neither could write out a solid plan for no matter how hard they tried.

So maybe it wasn’t the best timing, maybe it wasn’t the best situation or the best reason to kiss or the best way they could have gotten together, by a surprise visit nonetheless— but they were  _ together _ .

And, at the end of the day, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?


	3. In Your Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extract:  
> She’s wearing a soft blue dress because unlike in their dream it’s a little warm out and she has a black sweater cardigan that goes down to her knees and looks so comfortable and she’s wearing matching flats and her hair is in two pigtails and her eyes are bright and happy and so blue and he’s going to drown.
> 
> Enjoy!!

The background was bleary but the scene was all the same; scattered leaves floating through the air and clumping to the ground in odd piles with mud puddles here and there, the air was chilly and stuck to his lungs in little pricks but it felt nice.

In Luka’s dreams—  _ their  _ dreams, he supposed— autumn was nothing short of a safe, warm feeling despite the fact that it could send his body shivering and teeth chattering. He’d be wearing gloves and his favorite jacket, jeans and thick boats but still get shudders going down his spine.

He always met  _ her  _ in his dreams, too, and this night was no different.

She wore a long, soft pink coat and black leggings, her midnight hair fluttered around her shoulders and under a black beanie with little dots on it and her eyes—  _ god _ , her eyes were a brilliant blue that never failed to make him restless.

His body always got so high strung around her, aching to pull her close and never let go, burning up from the inside out and screaming at him to  _ just find her, why don’t you find her already? We need her! We need her so bad that it hurts! _

Luka wanted to; and he looked as well.

He’s been looking since he was a little eight year old hiding bruises and busted knuckles and teary eyes but had such a gentle girl visiting him after he finally felt safe enough to close his eyes.

He’s looked and looked and looked and looked.

She wasn’t in his classes, wasn’t in his school, didn’t hang out where he hung out and didn’t have any mutual friends.

He didn’t even know her name.

So what was he supposed to do?

They didn’t say much; in a dreamland like this, touch was so much more important but their short conversations told him enough.

Told him she lived in a bakery that her parents owed and that she loved them (and by god did he spend the next couple of weeks searching through every cafe or bakery or cake shop in Paris but never saw those blue eyes), that she wants to go into fashion, that she had bullies and insecurities but was the loveliest person he ever met and doesn’t even realize it.

And everything—  _ everything—  _ about her made him fall in love so deep that he could feel it in his bones.

These dreams, he knew, connected people to their soulmate.

So how did she get so lucky ending up with her?

The nameless, beautiful girl who haunted his dreams. The talented, brilliant girl whose laugh rolled over him like a wave of joy. The brave girl who held so much power in her hands and never dared abuse it. The girl he so desperately needed to know how to hold— how she would feel against his chest, in his arms. Not in their dreams, not when her warmth was shallow and her body melted against him almost like she was half-tangible and even less sure of herself.

They had a little place against the whirlwind of leaves that they always sat; a nice groove between two trees that always kept them dry and blocked the wind from biting at their cheeks.

Today he got their first, humming a melody into the nothingness around him and then there she was, washed in pink and black and with those freckles of hers, blue eyes watery as she sat down next to him and crawled into his lap without saying a word.

Luka held her— because even if he wanted to do so much more than just sit here in silence, this is what she needed— and continued to hum her song for the girl he fell in love with.

Some nights they do things that leave them waking up to a belly full of laughter and a smile so wide that their cheeks ache— other times, after bad days, he wipes the tears away from her face and wishes he could be there to do the same when she wakes up or she’ll hold him to her and hum his song right back.

This was one of the bad days and he wonders what it is this time.

A bully? A fight with a friend?

“Today was really hard,” She sniffles and he startled, not used to her talking much but ran his fingers through her hair in acknowledgement and comfort to her words. “My friends they… they all found their soulmates already so everyone was doing a paired up game thing but— but I was all alone and I missed you so much. This girl, she keeps lying and telling everyone I’m greedy for not being content with the people already in my lives. She’s making it seem like I don’t appreciate my friends and that I think I’m better than them but i don’t! I love my friends, I’m happy for them— I just want my soulmate, too. Is… Is it selfish to just want you with me already?”

“It’s not selfish at all, my melody,” Luka gently kissed her forehead, lips feeling like they’re brushing against nothing but solid air. “I want you already, too.”

She’s quiet for a moment before sitting up— consequently straddling his lap as well, her hands clutching onto his jacket and a frown coming onto her features as he brushes away the leftover tears staining her cheeks— and saying, “I want to know your name.”

“Are you sure?” Luka asks, not because he didn’t want to share it but because they… just never talked about this before.

Never said ‘I miss you’ or anything of the sort, though both knew that they were missed from just one look into their soulmate’s eyes. She never told him her name, so he did the same. She didn’t want to know at first and he didn’t ask why.

So this, the talking, the questions, the fact that they’re going to just be one step closer to finding each other, is a very unfamiliar feeling.

“I’m sure,” She looks him in the eyes and Luka practically melts. It should be illegal to be so beautiful, to look so cute even after she just got finished crying. “Do you, um, do you want to know mine?”

“Yes.” The answer is instant.

She smiles in reply and he grins back, bringing her hand up to kiss every knuckle before saying, “I’m Luka Couffaine.”

“Couffaine?” Her smile freezes, jaw going slack, and her eyes widen. “Wait, like, Juleka Couffaine?”

He blinks, “You know my sister?”

“Sister?” She shrieks, then laughs, her hands gently grabbing his face and planting a kiss onto his forehead. “I know who you are!”

“Wha—”

And then she disappears.

She’s awake and he’s stuck there and she knows his name but he doesn't know hers and he’s never been more  _ frustrated  _ in all his life before.

Luka wakes up and screams into his pillow, then a couple seconds later the partition separating his and Jules sides of the room is thrown open and his stupid sister is throwing a brush at him. 

“Shut up, idiot!” Juleka hisses, wobbling on her legs as she groggily stumbles back to her bed. “I was having a serious conversation with my baby flower.” Her ‘baby flower’ was Rose, her soulmate, and they’ve been annoyingly in love since they met in second grade.

His rolls over and crawls back under her covers, shoving his pillow over his head and swearing a couple times before falling silent. Luka glares at her before glaring up at the ceiling, the morning lift drifting in through the window and the familiar, comforting sound of the waves splashing against the Liberty is enough to remind him that the real peace is being with  _ her _ .

Not here, not in this bed, not with his sister— but in her arms, seeing her smile, hearing her laugh.

Grunting slightly as he sits up and stands out of bed, Luka gets dressed and opens to hatch to get out of his room, his guitar on his back as he grouchily goes into their kitchen and makes himself breakfast.

Juleka and his mom notice his grumpiness and, like true Couffaine’s, decide to embrace the chaos and be grumpy right back.

Like always, Luka walks with his sister to school after meeting up with Rose in their regular route but this time he’s silent and staring at the ground with pure annoyance ripping through him like a burning coal.

Why couldn’t he just know her name?

Was that too much to ask?

“Hey,” Juleka nudges his quietly as the school comes into sight, kids scattered all around. It was her first year but Luka’s last year in Lycee and while he was familiar with the school, he still kept a map in his bag in case his sister got lost and needed help. “You okay, loser? You’re acting strange.”

“Last night my soulmate learned my name,” He grumbled out the words. “And, apparently, she knows me as your older brother so she knows  _ you  _ but  _ I  _ didn’t get her name.”

“Poor Lukey,” She chuckles, making Rose pout up at her for being mean. “But, like… if I know her, she probably goes to our school. You get that, right?”

Luka just looks at her blankly.

“What?”

“Our school, dumbass. She goes to our school. My only friends who know I have a brother go here.”

Luka blinks. Once, twice. Three times.

Then he’s snapping his head up to the students around him and looking around, trying to pinpoint anyone that even resembles his melody as Juleka laughs at how frantic he turned and Rose cooed at how adorable it is that he is so excited.

Excited?

Nervous?

Feeling like he’s gonna throw up?

Feeling his heart pound in his chest?

Check, check, check, and check.

Then— then he catches the sight of midnight hair in the corner of his eye and whips around fast enough that his neck kinda protests at his movement but he just doesn’t care.

Because it’s her.

She’s wearing a soft blue dress because unlike in their dream it’s a little warm out and she has a black sweater cardigan that goes down to her knees and looks so comfortable and she’s wearing matching flats and her hair is in two pigtails and her eyes are bright and happy and so  _ blue  _ and he’s going to drown.

And god, she looks prettier than he could’ve imagined.

Is his heart supposed to beat this fast?

She has the same happy smile and same giggle as she sees him looking and he’s too shell shocked to do anything but watch as his soulmate bounds up to him and holds out a box of macaroons the color of his jacket.

“Hi,” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and shyly meets his eyes. “I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng and um, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you that before I woke up.”

“It’s really you,” Luka breathes out, hand raising to gently cup her cheek. Both of them give a low gasp at the wave of warmth and energy that washes over them as soon as their skin meets. Marinette leans into his touch with a soft smile and closes her eyes. “You’re really here.”

“Where else would I be?” She kisses the inside of his palm. “In your dreams?”

Luka laughs before pulling her into a bone-crushing hug, the poor box of macaroons falling to the ground but he’s too happy at the moment to feel guilty.

“God,” He breathes in her scent— chocolate chip cookies and the faint smell of vanilla. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

She’s tangible; right here, right now, in his arms she’s tangible.

Her arms wrap around him, too, and he starts to cry because every nightmare she helped him escape, every problem, every thought wearing on him too heavy that she soothed with the sound of his laugh just melts.

Nothing can compare to this.

She’s real and she’s his and they fit together perfectly.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever let her go.

_ Soulmates _ .

That’s the term people use, right?

It suddenly doesn’t feel descriptive enough.

“Luka,” Marinette says, pulling back enough that when she looks him in the eyes she can be the one to wipe away his tears instead of the other way around. “Are you okay?”

“Perfect,” He pulls her closer, head falling to nuzzle into her neck. “I’m perfect.”

There were people scattered around them, kids from their school and friends and other couples but they didn’t care. They were together and there were no leaves or mud puddles or a groove between two trees, there was no wispy wind and half-tangible hugs and voices sometimes too soft to hear.

They were together, they didn’t have to miss each other or be alone.

And there wasn’t a single selfish thing about that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extract:  
> Luka just laughed and sent her a cocky wave, “I look forward to it, sweetheart.”
> 
> Hope you like the fic, and have an amazing day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lila Rossi has gone too far and Luka Couffaine is going to do something about it. He is, after all, a Couffaine… a little chaos never frightened him.

Marinette came to him on a Friday afternoon with sad eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Her knees were bleeding and her wrists were bruised, hair messy and lip busted. Her dress was ruined with an ugly paint smear and her stockings underneath were ripped.

“I fell down the stairs,” She told him, looking away. “I didn’t mean to. I must’ve fallen into some paint.”

Luka didn’t believe this.

The wobble in her voice and the unsteady way she had stumbled right into his chest when she saw him was not the actions of a girl used to her own clumsy feet. Marinette was a strong girl and he knew how much of a burden was placed onto her shoulders. She did not crack easily and she did not do it over being a klutz or smudged paint. She did not cry over repairable things, over broken nails or washable clothes. She did not come to him looking upset and watery-eyed without feeling one step from breaking.

These were things he knew.

So, after calming her down and getting her to take a shower, offering her clean clothes and a warm bed, and letting the girl he fell in love with fall asleep on his chest to the sound of his heartbeat, he did some digging.

He went to his sister first and found out the real story.

Marinette was in the art workshop, Mrs. Bustier having set up a lesson in there during the last hour of the day, with the other members of the band as she helped Nathan and Marc on their story.

She was honestly just being nice— as Jules explained— then the bitch, his sister’s respective name for Lila, sauntered into the room and started to wail about how Mari was only helping the two co-creators because she wanted the credit for their work.

The girl he fell in love with defended herself, and her friends did the same but with most of the Akuma class— excluding the band members and Nathaniel— having fallen for her tails of woe and amazing, yet false, life experiences, they sided with the liar instead of Mari.

Then, throughout the rest of the class, the bitch found ways to terrorize Marinette (going as far and tripping her and cutting her dress with scissors, dropping her paint onto her, pushing her into things, or slamming different objects onto her wrists) and then blame her for getting in the way.

Juleka and Rose had helped Marinette calm down a little as the girl broke into tears as soon as they were away from the rest of the Akuma class but she just kept panicking— and ran away. They didn’t know where she ended up until he texted them and asked.

Then Luka asked for Alya Cesiare’s phone number and made an unsettling discovery.

Marinette and the blogger were no longer best friends.

And, horrifyingly, she had been accused of being a bully, a liar, and a manipulator. Lila painted his melody in the way that everyone should view her instead.

Finally he created a group chat with a few allies he could trust.

He contacted Adrien Agreste (because even if the boy had been painfully oblivious that Marinette had once been in love with him, he would do anything for his lady), Kagami Tsurigi and her girlfriend and spoiled brat, Chloe Bourgeois, the boyfriends Marc and Nate, and then the rest of his band.

He named it ‘The Marinette Protection Squad’ and, just like that, the war was on its way.

*-*-*

Lila Rossi was waiting in the back of the school by herself when Luka arrived. He found her hidden between one of the walls and a thick oak tree and he didn’t bother to hide himself as he crossed the grounds over to her.

She saw him, surprise lighting her features for a second before it shifted into a— what he would guess, if it wasn't on someone so repulsive— a seductive smile.

“Luka!” She squealed, sauntering up to him and stopping a few feet away. “How are you, sweetheart? It’s been forever since we saw each other, since your last year in Lycee, right?”

“I don’t care,” Luka took a step back, face emotionless as he looked down at her. His eyes gave away nothing as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’ve made a lot of people angry, Lila.”

“A-Angry?” She stammered, feigning innocence by putting her hands over her heart with too wide of eyes to be real. “Why would they be angry with me?”

“Because you’re a liar and you hurt the people they care about— you hurt the person  _ I  _ care about.”

“Oh,” Lila straightened her back. “You must be talking about my bully.”

“Your bully?” Luka scoffed, less than amused. “Sure, I’ll play along for a minute. Who is your bully.”

“She’s... s-she is Marinette,” The liar sniffles. “And she says such horrible things about me and they’re not true! She pushes me and, and she rips up my homework and she insults me. Whatever you heard isn’t true, I swear!”

“Are you done?” He sighed out, shrugging his shoulders to make them relax more. “You’re a lying bitch, I get it. I’m not here to let you try to sink your claws under my skin, not that it would work, I’m here to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?” Lila asks, voice going a bit nastier than she probably intended.

_ What a two-faced bitch. _

“That you should watch your back,” He says simply, turning slightly to walk back to his house. “You pushed a lot of people into your enemy list by threatening Marinette and now you’re about to face the consequences. It’s only fair to give you a head’s up.”

“Marinette,” she shrieks, “is nothing but a liar and a  _ horrible  _ person—”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, no matter what anyone says, is the kindest person you will ever meet,” Luka snarled, whirling on the sausage-haired girl so fast that she stumbled back, unprepared. “And I’m  _ hers _ . You hurt the wrong person, you egocentric bitch, and you’re going to pay for it.”

Lila gaped for a second before she forced an innocent look on her face, mouth opening to say something but the musician just continued, eyes hard and narrowed and angry, mouth drawn into a tight line.

He was a generally calm person, he could handle a lot before ever blowing a fuse. Because he was also a Couffaine at heart. He thrived in chaos where others wither and when it came to those he loved, nothing would stop him from protecting them.

_ Especially  _ when the one he loved and had to defend was the girl he fell in love with.

“She is thoughtful and compassionate and selfless and astounding in how she will push herself to the knife’s edge just to make sure her loved ones are okay. She is a cinnamon roll but the fiercest ally you could ever have. There is no stopping her, there is no convincing her to step down when she’s standing up for something that’s right— when she’s standing up for someone, unless that someone is herself.”

He took a step closer and, well, that must’ve been pretty intimidating because she scrambled to take one back, causing a humorless chuckle to leave his lips.

He was his mother’s son but he had enough of his father in him to leave others terrified.

“And you want to convince me that just because you have the Akuma class, Mlle. Bustier, and M. Damocles so far up your ass that people will hate her? Really? Let me tell you something,  _ sweetheart _ ," He gave a cruel smirk, voice mocking as he repeated what she called him earlier. “This isn’t you and all your puppets against Marinette, it’s now you against the entire school. You might pretend to rule this place but she is the one who everyone looks up to and loves. She’s their sunshine child and leader and she has connections  _ everywhere _ . She knows people that could make your life a living hell and it is her kindness alone that has spared you in the past. And you should have cut your losses when you had the chance because I, however, am not as kind. You declared war, Mlle. Rossi, do not be surprised when your downfall comes knocking on your door.”

With that and smirking at the ugly glare on her face, Luka saunters away, whistling a happy tune despite how tightly his fists are clenched inside his pockets.

It’s a week later when they make the first move.

Ivan and Rose, because despite her size she puts up one hell of a fight, are Marinette’s bodyguards during school. They prevent her from getting hurt while Mylene, Marc, and Nate make sure to record anything and everything Lila does that’s incriminating towards her reputation. 

Juleka is on sabotage duty during school to make sure any plans backfire onto the bitch while Adrien is the distraction. Both were excellent at their job. Almost scarily good.

Outside of school Kagami and Luka strategize and come up with plans to make sure anything Lila says can be used against her. They organize groups and make sure that Marinette and her family doesn’t get bothered by Lila or any of her followers.

One by one more people in the school help. Marinette’s friends from different classes going from the highest grade level to the first year students at Lycee all jump in when needed— when they overhear a lie and debunk it by pulling up proof or contacting the people involved directly (Marinette isn’t the only one with contacts).

One by one Lila is getting more isolated, one by one she’s losing her power.

And it’s so satisfying to see that Luka goes to sleep laughing.

It’s not even a full month before the Akuma class had fully left Lila’s side, the last to turn was Alya— the reporter so distraught over how she realized she had been treating her former best friend that she had a mental breakdown.

It was a month on the dot when Honeybee and Ryuko got video footage of Lila snatching one of Hawkmoth’s butterflies from the air with a wide grin and a “What can I do for you today, boss?” and it was a week later when her life got ruined.

(Marinette was so overjoyed that the constant terror— in her civilian— life was going away that she kissed Luka until their lungs ached and, just like that, Luka got revenge and a girlfriend in one sweep.

And that girlfriend was very, very grateful for it too. Most nights he went to bed with bruise-kissed lips and a beautiful girl in his arms. Marinette looked happier than she did in years and all the planning and frustration melted away when he saw her wake up with a smile.

He couldn’t protect her when she was fighting an Akuma but he’s proved more than enough times that he could protect her when she goes back to having two left feet.)

First she got expelled from her Lycee for false accusations, thief, bullying, and cheating. 

Then her lies— ever last one of them— were exposed and her mother was informed about what her daughter was up to and even waved her daughter’s diplomatic immunity— being absolutely disgusted with her daughter’s behavior— when the court cases of people suing her for fraudulence, harassment, threats, attempted murder, and acts of terroism.

Last, but not least, Lila was banned from Paris and all the cases stacked up against her were moved to a different court within France so they wouldn’t even have to see her again.

Though they did see her screaming and shrieking and snarling towards Luka as he joyfully waved at her when the bitch was getting dragged to the back of a cop car, “You! You did this! You made this all happen! I’m going to get you back for this, Couffaine, I swear I’m going to get you!”

She seemed absolutely insane, drool going down her chin from how hard she had been yelling, eyes frantic and face flushed and she jerked like a wild animal trying to get out of her cuffs and the officer’s hands that held her back from attacking the young musician.

He was a Couffaine and this chaos made him delighted to witness.

After all, it’s not everyday you get to see the downfall of the bitch who made the love of your life miserable.

Luka just laughed and sent her a cocky wave, “I look forward to it,  _ sweetheart _ .”

Well… you can’t say she wasn’t warned.


End file.
